Fearless
by stargazerneddy
Summary: Callie is trying to take Ximena's advice- to be fearless- but it's proving harder than she thought. Takes place shortly after 5x02. Also includes a lot of Daphne and our new friend Ximena, but they're not listed as character options.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, I fixed the formatting so hopefully it works this time. Again, this takes place just after 5x02. And thanks again for any comments or feedback you might have! I'm new at this.

Callie stared at the necklace in her hand. Her mother's necklace. It had been with her through so much. Wherever they were, whoever they were living with, Callie always felt like as long as she had it around her neck, her mother would still be with her somehow. Would be able to protect her. Which was silly, because if her mother had really been able to protect her then none of those horrible things would have happened…

Callie had a sudden desire to tuck the necklace away, under her shirt where it usually lived. She didn't feel like looking at it anymore. But she had to if she was going to sketch it, and she had to sketch it if she had any shot of getting into art school. Which meant she had to keep looking at it.

Was this what Ximena meant when she'd said Callie had to be fearless? She had to be willing to stare directly into her painful, depressing past and not look away? Making that cell for her senior project had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, and that had at least been about her time in foster care. Those memories made her angry and sad and afraid and everything, but they were nothing compared to how she felt when she thought about her mother. Revisiting who she had been before she went into foster care was like prodding an open wound. Everything that had happened since seemed to eventually scar over, but the time before just didn't seem to want to heal.

She remembered that day in the garden, during Frank's (grandpa? She still felt strange calling him that.) funeral. When she had lost it over losing the necklace and thinking she might never be part of a family again. She had cried to Stef even though her mother had died six years before and Stef had just lost her dad earlier that week. Callie shouldn't have done that—made Stef's grief about herself. She still felt guilty about it sometimes. And she hadn't been able to open up like that again.

Gazing at that necklace, though, she felt that same rush of emotion threaten to overwhelm her. She couldn't let it. Not here. She was in the middle of a college classroom, surrounded by artists who were trying to focus. The last thing she wanted to be was that weird high school kid who started sobbing out of the blue.

"Hey." Ximena whispered next to her. "You okay?"

Callie took a steadying breath. "Yeah." She said, failing to sound normal. "You know, I'm actually not feeling great. I might take off early today."

Ximena looked over at her, clearly worried. "You want a ride home?"

"No." Callie replied, struggling to pack up her things before the floodgates opened. "I'll be fine, thanks."

She scrambled from the room, just barely making it out of the building before she started to cry in earnest, one desperate hand pressed against her mouth as though she was trying to hold the emotions inside. She turned and walked part of the way down the next block before coming to a stop with her back pressed against the trunk of a waving palm tree, hidden from the foot traffic on the sidewalk. She took a few breaths and counted slowly. _One Two Three_. The world wasn't pressing in around her quite as much. _Four Five_. Her pulse wasn't racing. _Six Seven Eight_. Her breathing slowed. _Nine Ten_.

She'd learned that trick from her therapist. Her panic attacks had slowed down a lot once Liam went to jail, but they had never stopped entirely. She'd just gotten better at talking herself down from them. She'd pushed herself too far today, that was all. She needed to take it more gradually. Staring at the necklace for a whole class period obviously wasn't going to work for her. Maybe she should start a second project and split her time. That way she could switch over whenever she started feeling overwhelmed.

Having a plan helped her calm down. She felt well enough to make her way home, and stepped out from behind the tree, straight into the path of Ximena.

"Hey." The older girl said. She took in Callie's red eyes, her shaking hands, and a kind smile came to her face. "I was just coming to check on you."

Callie forced a smile that she was sure didn't look genuine. "Sorry, I just got a little claustrophobic."

"The smell of paint will do that to you." She stared a little too intensely for Callie's comfort. "You sure you don't want a ride home?"

Ximena's car was cool. Everything about Ximena was cool. She had cool music on a cool ipod plugged into her cool car that she used to drive herself to her cool roller-derby practices. All of it just made Callie self-conscious because she knew she would never be like Ximena. She could never live so effortlessly.

"So I don't really know anything about you." Ximena said.

Callie nodded, but really she didn't want to have this conversation. She liked that Ximena didn't know anything about her. She would much rather leave it that way. Usually, in Callie's experience, the more people knew about her, the less time they wanted to spend with her.

"Uh yeah. There's not that much to know."

"That's not true." Ximena told her, letting out a bark of a laugh. "You know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because boring people love to talk about themselves. They never shut up about cute stuff their dog does or celebrity crushes. People who have nothing to say post pictures of their lunch on instagram." Callie let out of a laugh in spite of herself. "It's the quiet ones who have something real going on."

Callie didn't say anything, but secretly she agreed. It was the same reason she could never seem to connect with the girls at her school. People like Talya, who'd never had to face real hardship, just couldn't understand what it was like to be Callie. The things people like that talked about—cared about—just seemed so pointless.

"Am I wrong?" Ximena asked, glancing over.

Callie gave a reluctant smile. "You're not wrong." She admitted.

"So? Tell me about yourself. I know your mom isn't around. You live with your dad? You said he bought you that art set."

"Uh… no." Callie was getting nervous again. She didn't want to tell her story. She didn't even want to think about it. "I mean, yeah. My birth dad bought me that case. But I actually haven't known him that long."

"Oh." There it was. The little hitch in Ximena's voice. That uncertainty where she started to wonder what she'd gotten herself into. "So who do you live with?"

"My two moms. They adopted me and my little brother a little while ago."

"So you have a brother. What's he like?"

"He's great. I mean, he's always been there. And now I have two more brothers and a sister."

Ximena seemed to think about this for a moment. Callie wished the ride would end.

"Is that hard? Becoming part of a family you didn't grow up with? It sounds like it would be tough." They were approaching the house. Callie willed the car to speed up. To get her out of this conversation.

"I don't know. I mean it's just sort of my life. You know?"

"Yeah. I get that." Ximena seemed to catch onto the fact that she had made Callie uncomfortable. She was silent for the last few minutes of the drive, and didn't object when Callie scrambled from the car.

"Thanks." Callie called over her shoulder, and nearly ran to the house, fumbling with her keys as she went.

Callie was quiet that night at dinner. She was hoping no one would notice, but, as usual, Stef spoke up.

"So how was class today, Cal? You didn't say anything when you got back."

"Uh yeah." Callie replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "It was fine."

"Seemed like you finished up a little early." Lena added. Callie wished they would stop.

"Not really." Callie shrugged. "Maybe a couple minutes."

They dropped it, but Callie noticed them share a look. She knew what that look meant—they were going to find a time to corner her later and make her talk to them. But she didn't want to talk to them.

"Actually, Daphne invited me over tonight. Can I go?" It was a lie, but Daphne would be more than happy if Callie showed up, so it was pretty safe as far as lies went.

Lena and Stef immediately looked doubtful. "I don't know, sweets. I mean, don't you want to spend some time at home?"

"It's Friday night." Callie countered. "And Daphne was really worried about me too and I think she just wants to see that I'm really okay." It was a calculated move and she could tell it hit a soft spot with her mothers. If there was anything they could sympathize with it was being worried about Callie.

"I'm going to drop you off and pick you up." Stef stipulated. "And you stay at Daphne's. Nowhere else."

"Sure. Yes."

"Then you may go."

Callie stood, relieved. "Then I should probably go get ready." She started toward her room, but Lena's voice called her back.

"You haven't eaten anything."

"I'm good." Callie replied over her shoulder, and ran up the stairs, shooting a quick text to Daphne as she went, warning of her arrival.

As expected Daphne was more than happy to see her when Stef dropped her off half an hour later. It was a relief just to be in the sparse apartment, away from prying eyes.

"So you gonna tell me what's up with you?" Daphne asked.

"I'm sorry." Callie told her, "But I'm just done with talking right now. It seems like ever since I got back all anyone wants to do is have deep, meaningful conversations with me."

Daphne gave a commiserating sigh. "Trust me girl, I know."

"So how's GU?" Callie changed the subject. "You know, after everything happened?"

"Rita 'bout lost her mind when she heard what you did. I thought she was gonna start knocking on doors herself until she found you. And Tina cried all night, she felt so guilty."

A pang hit Callie. Two more people she'd hurt. "Tina shouldn't feel guilty. It wasn't her fault."

"Yeah, I told her you were just being a dumbass."

Callie glanced up at Daphne's wry look. For the first time in what felt like weeks, she really laughed. "Yep. That's pretty much what happened."

"Look, you know I've done my share of stupid stuff. Hell, you've helped me get out of half of it. Don't beat yourself up too bad over this. Just see it as a learning experience."

Callie laughed harder. "So what? Now you know not to kidnap people and I know not to run away with drug dealing pimps?"

"Exactly. And we're both better people for it."

"I'm pretty sure most people don't have to learn stuff like that through experience."

Daphne's face turned slightly more serious. "Yeah, but Callie, most people have folks around to teach them all that. People like you and me? Sometimes it just takes longer. But we get there. You know, once we've screwed up enough times."

Callie was filled with a rush of affection for Daphne. She put her arms around the young woman, who jokingly tried to fight her off.

"Hey, I didn't say we could get all mushy about it." Daphne protested.

"Remember that time you got a gang to beat me up?" Callie countered. "You owe me." Daphne stopped struggling, conceding the point.

Once Callie let go, Daphne tossed a pillow at her. "And don't think I won't do it again."

A quiet settled over the room.

"So that's it? You're just still working through what happened?" Daphne finally asked. Callie glanced up at her and decided to be honest.

"Actually, I've been doing this art project and… I really want to go see my dad."

"Well call him up." Daphne told her playfully. "Robert's probably waiting by the phone, dreaming of the day you'll call him."

"No, not Robert. My real… I mean… Donald. I want to see Donald."

"You're doing an art project about Donald?"

"About my mom." Callie corrected. "And I just… I want to talk to someone about her. Someone who actually knew her. Someone who misses her as much as I do."

"What about Jude?"

"Jude was only six when she died. Most of what he knows about her is stuff I told him."

Daphne sighed. "Okay. So you know where he lives?"

Callie looked down at her hands. She knew Daphne wasn't going to like this. "About half a mile from here."

"Callie!" The reaction was expected and immediate. "You did not come over here just so you could sneak off and see Donald."

"I won't be long. I'll just head over for an hour tops then I'll come straight back."

"Do you know what your mother would do to me if you disappeared again on my watch? Do you know how long you'd be searching for my body?"

"I'm not running away. It's just a quick visit."

But Daphne wasn't having it. "If you just tell your moms then they can set up a visitation. One that doesn't involve you showing up at his door a ten o'clock at night."

"I just don't want to make this a thing, okay? I don't want to add this to the list of things that everyone needs to ask me about all the time. I just want one conversation with him and then I'll be done. You understand that, Daphne. I know you do."

For a moment Daphne held her gaze, but then she relented. "You know I got Stef's number, right?"

"I know."

"And if you are gone for one minute past an hour, I intend to use it."

"One hour. I promise."

"Well, for the record I still think it's a bad idea. But I'm not going to stop you."

Callie stood, smiling. "Thank you."

"Okay, get going."

Callie hurried to the door, pulling her coat around her shoulders as she went.


	2. Chapter 2

And here's the exciting conclusion. Enjoy!

The walk was brief, shorter even than Callie was expecting. She had known that Donald moved, but she hadn't realized how close it had been to Daphne's place. She thought about all the times she'd come this way to hang out and how she might have run into Donald at any moment. She was glad she hadn't.

The neighborhood wasn't quite deserted. Cars drove by her, mostly full of teenagers on their way to parties and dates. She felt underdressed. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself even though she wasn't cold. Somehow, walking to Donald's, she just wanted to feel protected.

She checked the address she'd written down twice before she rang the doorbell. The porch light was on, which she took as a good sign, but the place was rundown. When she heard that he moved she'd assumed it was to somewhere nicer, but it didn't appear that had been the case. She wondered if he'd been evicted.

It took a while for anyone to answer. She had just started to feel a flood of disappointment as she accepted he wasn't home, when she started to hear a distinct shuffle coming from inside. A moment later the door swung open and there he stood. Shirtless, two days worth of graying beard on his chin, and the distinct smell of alcohol lingering in the air around him.

"Callie." He said. His voice was hollow. Callie wanted to leave, but she knew she couldn't. "What are you doing here?" How could he look so much older than the last time she'd seen him?

"I… um…" But before she could say anything, a voice called from another room.

"Who is it?"

Donald looked at Callie, embarrassed or guilty, she couldn't tell. Maybe both. She felt her eyes grow wide as a young woman with only a sheet wrapped around her emerged from the bowels of the house.

"Donny?" The woman asked. "Who's this."

"I'm Callie." She told the woman, hoping it would be enough, but it wasn't. The woman tossed a confused look at Donald and he rubbed a hand over his balding head.

"She's my daughter." Donald offered, but the word immediately rang wrong in Callie's head.

"Sort of." Callie added, but she didn't know what else to call their relationship. He wasn't her biological father and he didn't have any parental rights over her. What was he? And yet, even in the state he was in, the first word that came to her mind when she looked at him was 'dad.'

"How is she sort of your daughter?" The woman asked, giggling drunkenly. Callie hated her. She didn't know anything about her but she hated her more than she'd hated almost anyone.

"Hey, why don't you get dressed and take off, Bri."

"Okay." The woman replied. Her tone was mocking. She planted a long, lingering kiss on Donald and he didn't pull back from it. Callie wanted to run to them and tear them apart.

She disappeared inside the back room and Callie and Donald remained where they were. Callie didn't want to go inside while she was still in there. The silence hung heavy in the doorway for the minute it took Bri to throw her skimpy outfit back on and leave with another, even longer, parting kiss.

"So you want to come in?" Donald asked once she was out of sight.

Truthfully Callie didn't, but it seemed too late to back down. Not once she'd made her father's 'friend' leave.

"So." Callie said as she made her way inside and sat down on the moth-eaten sofa. "Bri?" She couldn't keep the mocking tone out of her voice.

Donald sat on an easy chair as far across the room as he could. "I'm a man, Callie. I get lonely."

"Yeah, I just would have thought you'd go for someone a little closer to your age than mine."

"So what?" Callie could hear the anger growing in Donald's voice. "You came over here just to judge me?"

Callie wiped the smirk from her face. He was angry. And he'd been drinking.

"I actually came to talk about mom."

That seemed to shut him up. He gaped at her for a moment before he responded. "Jesus, Callie. You came all the way over here to talk about your mother?"

"I just keep feeling like this isn't what she would have wanted. Me and Jude living with strangers and you drinking yourself to death and shacking up with some floozy who looks like she could still be in braces." Callie could feel her voice rising but she couldn't help it. She was mad.

"She's 24." He shot back. "And I let you kids go because that's what you said you wanted. It's not my fault if you changed your mind."

"I didn't change my mind, I just keep wondering if that's really what she would have wanted us to—"

Donald rose to his feet, shaking. "She would have wanted to not be dead!" Donald shouted. Callie stared at him, stunned. "She would have wanted to not get in that car with me so she could still be here with you. She would have wanted to watch you grow up and kiss you good night and ground you and love you and cry at your goddamn graduation." His voice fell to a quivering whisper. Callie felt a tear slide unbidden down her cheek. "That's what she would have wanted. So don't waste your time trying to make a dead woman happy."

Callie tried to stay under control. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go.

"Dad, I-"

He interrupted before she'd even figured out what she was going to say. "But I'm not your dad. Am I?" Callie felt the tightness in her chest grow. Her breath was coming in painful gasps. "I wanted to be, Cal." He fell back onto the easy chair and wrapped a hand around the Bud Light that was sitting on the table beside him. "I would have been. But you didn't want me. So I let you go." He shook his head. Callie didn't think she'd ever seen someone look so defeated. "I'm so sorry." The words were barely a whisper. Callie almost wondered if she'd imagined them.

"I should go." She stuttered, and headed for the door.

"I'd give you a ride." He called out as she left. "But, you know, I've been drinking."

Callie burst out the door, relieved to feel the crisp night air hit her lungs. She walked four blocks as fast as she could before she let herself stop. How had he turned into that? She thought about the crisp, absentee businessman who'd once been her father. If her ten-year-old self had met that Donald she wouldn't have even recognized him.

She glanced down at her phone. Fifteen minutes. All of that had only taken fifteen minutes.

She didn't head back to Daphne's right away. She had plenty of time and she needed to clear her head. The night was calm and cool and she relished the anonymity of the darkness. She thought she'd go down to the water, but halfway there she noticed a bus stop headed uptown. She paused as a sudden thought entered her head. She glance back down at her phone. She still had forty minutes left. That would be enough time. Almost. Just.

The bus came moments later, which was lucky. She found a seat at the back. The florescent lights shone harshly on a pair of pierced teenagers making out and a man who looked far too old to be out so late on a Friday night. None of them glanced at Callie.

She could hardly sit still. She leaned her head against the side and bounced one of her legs. They were almost there.

When her stop came, Callie sprang to her feel and shot out the door. She charged up the street. There were no partying teens in this neighborhood. It was silent and deserted. As she entered the park the trees seemed to close in around her, but not in an intimidating way. It was though they were escorting her, protecting her.

The gate was locked so she had to climb the fence. She wondered briefly what would happen if she got caught. Was trespassing a felony? She pictured Stef and Lena's faces if the cops escorted her home. But as she hopped down on the other side, no one came. She was entirely alone.

She took the winding path between the stones. She'd only come this way a few times before, and it had been several years ago, but she remembered it. Did anyone forget where their mom was buried?

Callie stopped once she drew within sight of the headstone. For a moment she had the thought that she should be scared. Alone in a graveyard at night? That was supposed to be spooky, wasn't it? But all she felt was sad and a little tired. Maybe once you'd met monsters in real life the imaginary ones didn't seem so bad anymore.

She crept forward, as though she was trying not to wake someone who was sleeping. Once she got close enough to read the name, _Colleen Jacob_ , she sat down with her legs crossed and just looked at it for a while. Somewhere below her were those arms that had once held her, those lips that had once kissed her, those hands that held her's while they crossed the street. What did they look like now? How long did it take for a person to become a skeleton?

She shook the thought away. She didn't have much time. She took a deep breath, stealing herself for what she wanted to do.

"Mom?" She asked. Her voice sounded quiet and childish in her ears. "I… It's Callie."

The silence around her remained undisturbed. She pressed on.

"I came to see you because…" Her voice started to choke but she couldn't stop. "I've really been screwing up." She took another rattling breath. "I know you're not here but I just… is this what I'm supposed to do, mom? Is it okay if I let dad go?" And finally she arrived at the question that was truly at the root of it, the question that had been weighing on her heart.

"Am I allowed to be happy?"

She waited. She didn't know what she was expecting. A gust of wind, maybe? A voice to tell her it was okay for her to move on with her life and it didn't mean she loved her mother any less? But whatever she had been hoping for, she didn't get it. The air remained still, the graveyard calm and quiet.

And sitting in that peaceful place, she had a moment of clarity. Her mother wasn't there. Her mother wasn't some body decomposing in the ground. It was like Stef had told her, Colleen was inside of Callie. And Callie never had to feel guilty about moving on with her life because, in a way, her life _was_ a tribute to her mother. And if she threw that away, that's when her mother would truly be gone.

As though something was guiding her hand, Callie felt herself unclasp her necklace. She held it out in front of her and looked at it as though she was seeing it for the first time. What if the necklace wasn't tying her to her mother's memory? What if it was binding her to an image of the past that no longer existed? What if it was keeping her from moving forward?

She lay the metal chain on the Earth at the base of the headstone. Immediately she felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. This was right.

"I love you." She whispered. This time a faint gust of wind found its way to her. Maybe it was her mother, maybe it wasn't, but either way it felt like soft lips pressing against her cheek. She stood up, and walked back to the bus stop.

She made it back to Daphne's right on time.

"I was getting worried about you. How'd it go? Did you get what you needed?"

"You know, I think I did."

The next night during dinner, she noticed Jude looking at her funny. Finally he leaned over and whispered, "You're not wearing mom's necklace. Did you lose it again?"

Callie felt a small smile creep over her face. "No, buddy." She told him. "I gave it back."


End file.
